


Someone to Watch Over Me

by kisahawklin



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bondage, Captivity, Codependency, Dark, M/M, Minor Character Death, Violence, sga_santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-14 07:57:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney gets taken hostage the most, a dozen more times than anyone else in Atlantis, and a couple dozen more times than anyone else on the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone to Watch Over Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enviropony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enviropony/gifts).



It doesn't start out as much.

It doesn't start out as anything, actually. McKay is just a crazy-smart cowardly lion. John knows the type, guys who are afraid on the surface but will go to ridiculous lengths to save everyone when the chips are down. The guys he knows don't do it with their brains, but you use what you've got.

McKay's mildly annoying sometimes, mildly amusing other times, downright obnoxious occasionally, but he's always interesting. John's never been able to resist a puzzle, and McKay is one of the most complex John's ever found.

When John asks him to be on his gate team, it isn't for anything more than his brain and the entertainment value. It's not like he needs another soldier, especially since he's got to ask Ford to be on his team, too – there's no way around it. He has gate experience, which John doesn't, and John is going to watch the kid's back. He's lost too many people already.

Teyla is an obvious choice; besides being a leader of her people and able to take care of herself, she's a better negotiator than any of them except Elizabeth (who is never going into the field if John can help it – he's not losing another boss), and knowledgeable about local customs to boot.

He's gone through a metric fuckton of SG reports; everything he has clearance for is on his laptop for bedtime reading. He knows that teams are like family, and he can only hope he chose the right people, and they'll all show their true colors after they've been in a few scrapes together.

This turns out to be mostly true; Ford and McKay are a lot like oil and water, but there's some brotherly affection there, if not respect, so he trusts they'll come around.

Not everyone is of the same mind; there are a fair number of jarheads who give McKay a hard time. The science team protects their own (even McKay, it seems), so he doesn't worry about it until he overhears Ford yelling at Henderson outside the mess.

"… and McKay saves our lives on a regular basis, _do you understand_?"

"Yes, sir," Henderson replies. When John comes around the corner, the straight-backed, just-over-your-shoulder stare is in full effect.

"KP duty for a month," John says, and Henderson doesn’t even flinch, but Ford whirls on him, clearly caught by surprise. "And you'll be up against Teyla and me in the next PT rotation."

He may not be able to kick Henderson's ass easily, but with Teyla softening him up first, the man'll have bruises on top of bruises.

"Yes, sir," Henderson replies again.

"Dismissed."

Henderson salutes and jogs off down the hallway.

"So, what was that about?" John asks, falling into step with Ford as they head toward the lockers.

"I caught a bunch of guys planning to prank the scientists," Ford says. "They scrambled and Henderson was the only one I caught a good glimpse of."

"Mmm," John says. "The scientists? Or McKay?"

Ford looks away, shrugging. "I may have caught his name. I wasn't going to do any more – the scientists can take care of themselves."

"I know," John says. He does know. He can't help his anger at one of his family being threatened, though.

"Yes, sir," Ford says, grinning and giving him a sloppy salute, leaving him standing as he heads back to the mess.

~+~+~

The pranks stop early on; John rules with an iron hand on that one. He's never sure that it isn't obvious that he's partial to his team and punishments will be severe when fucking with them, but he's also not sure he cares if anyone knows it. He tries to be fair, but he doesn't have the constitution for it. He leaves that to Elizabeth, who is unfailingly even-handed about these things.

No matter what other punishments people get for messing with his team, though, the one thing he makes absolutely sure of is an ass-whupping in PT. Teyla, then Ford, if he's the person who got hurt or John, if it's McKay. If Teyla's the wronged party, he doesn't bother to go first – there isn't a man in Atlantis who can best her. If it's McKay, though, John is the one with the last word, and he makes sure his disapproval is known, down to their bones.

~+~+~

It figures that when his team finally feels _right_ , Earth would come in and fuck things up.

Everett and his marines don't even really help in the fight; it turns out there are a hell of a lot more Wraith than John could ever have guessed, and in the ends he gets a promotion, along with a "fuck off back to your own galaxy and don't come back" which is okay with him.

In the weird half-space where they're looking for Ford and Ronon is acclimating to their team, John worries constantly. Even after he knows there's no way Ford could have made it off the hive, he can't stop looking, can't stop asking about him.

He doesn't stop asking for seven years.

~+~+~

Things are easier with Ronon on the team. He and Rodney bicker, but they get along for the most part. Rodney likes having the big guy at his back, John can tell. He doesn't think Rodney even knows about the mounds of KP and PT punishments John's handed out on Rodney's behalf. Nor does he know about the people John's had dealings with offworld.

There's the priest from M3X-2C9 that gets a little handsy with Rodney. John takes him aside before the dinner and bloodies his nose badly enough that he isn't able (or maybe willing) to attend the festivities.

The woman John catches slipping something into Rodney's drink gets a taste of her own medicine. She passes out into her plate of roast beast, and John has to exercise a remarkable amount of self-control to leave her there, unharmed.

The first guy that ties McKay to an altar doesn't live long enough to get absolution. John likes his guns, enough to practice with his P90 for accuracy, but that's too good for this guy. This guy is going to feel John's knife slide into his back, right into his lung, and he won't even be able to gurgle for help.

The second, third, and fourth people that try to tie Rodney to various items fare no better than the first. John gets better with his knife, thanks to Rodney. It stresses Rodney to see John shoot people, even people who've tried to hurt him, so John kills them silently, and with as little blood as possible.

~+~+~

On P33-M86, Rodney gets himself drugged to the gills while supposedly touring the local science facility. It's a barn in the back of the village so stupidly, John doesn't worry about Rodney going alone. He waves goodbye to Rodney and Jarle, the star-struck blond kid that can't help gaping every time Rodney opens his mouth.

The kid is nineteen, scrawny enough that even Rodney should be able to take him, with the couple of moves they've taught him over the years. Teyla and Ronon go to see some temple, apparently decorated for a well-known holiday.

John goes with Jarle's older sister, Kensu. She takes him to a sitting room, richly appointed in red and purple, and pours him tea. He smiles and takes it, wetting his lips but no more. It's a fine line to draw between insulting your hosts and being wary of poisons or allergic reactions, but he's gotten pretty good at it.

She makes nice small talk – she is more skilled at conversation-making than he is by a long shot. He answers her questions as honestly as he can and wets his lips with more tea. She seems to get impatient with him after several minutes, and after the third lip-wetting, his lips feel funny. When she smiles hopefully at his question about what's in the tea, he knows Rodney's in trouble. He grabs his stuff and runs for the science barn as fast as he can.

Breaking in is fueled by pure adrenaline. The door splinters and he can see Rodney tied to a huge table, eyes open but glassy, and Jarle looking stupid with his startled eyes and mouth hanging open. He stands perfectly still as John stalks up to him, and when John slides the knife up under his rib cage, his eyes go even wider.

He doesn't realize he's as dead as if John had stabbed him through the eye (and John thought about it, briefly, but he wants to watch the lights go out), so he grabs onto John's tac vest, begging for a life that's moments from ebbing away. Rodney groans loudly and John looks over at him, tied to the table with his arms out to each side and his sleeves rolled up, ankles tied together, lashed on to the table. John glances up and down his body, a quick survey to make sure rope burns will be the worst damage he has to clean up.

While he looks Rodney over, Rodney stares at Jarle, his eyes piercingly sharp. He watches as John pulls his knife out and Jarle crumples, staring up at John in disbelief. John leaves the kid, less interested now in watching him pay and more interested in watching Rodney's reaction. He's straining against the ropes, his eyes locked on John's bloody knife.

John expects shock, horror, some kind of violent reaction. He wipes the blade on Jarle's vest and sheathes it, carefully noting Rodney's gaze as it follows his hand. When the knife is completely out of sight, Rodney sighs and lies back down on the table, settling with a deep breath as the ropes go slack.

"Cut me loose," Rodney says.

The barn they're in seems to be an actual barn, so there's a random assortment of sharp implements around. John goes for an ax, a decent wood chopping ax that'll make short work of the rope but he stops short when Rodney says, "With your knife."

He looks over his shoulder and Rodney's eyes are fixed on his knife in his sheath. He supposes Rodney could be staring at his ass, but he finds it pretty unlikely, and there's a certain glassiness to Rodney's eyes that still speaks of drugs or shock or both.

 _A little impractical_ , John thinks, but starts on Rodney's right hand anyway. There's something surreal about all this and the adrenaline that had started to wear off suddenly kicks in again and he can hear his blood whooshing in his ears. John deepens his breathing and starts cutting Rodney loose, as quickly as he can. It's only been a minute, but the way he ran out of Kensu's place, they're going to come looking for him pretty quick.

"Colonel?"

Teyla's voice is not too far away and sounds like angels singing. "In here!" he shouts. He puts his knife in Rodney's hand and grabs the ax. "There's not enough time, buddy."

Rodney closes his eyes and John makes quick work of the ropes, sheathing his knife and getting Rodney at least half vertical before Teyla and Ronon show up. "Time to go," John says, and he knows they've both taken in the scene and have his back.

Kensu is waiting for them when they limp out of the barn, Rodney between John and Ronon, head lolling back.

"I'm sorry," she says, and to her credit, she does look genuinely upset. "We are nearly out of Ancestor blood, and –"

"You can stop talking right now," John says. "And you won't be getting any of our blood. We're leaving."

The villagers crowd in a little closer, and while John doesn't want to gun down random villagers who just happen to have the wrong idea about the Ancients and how all their doodads work, he's not going to feel guilty about it, if that's the way this goes. Ronon's already got his gun unholstered, waiting for John's command.

"Start walking, buddy," John says, and they automatically go into formation, Teyla on point and Ronon on their six while John half-carries, half-drags Rodney along. No one is brave enough to attack them, and they file into the jumper with Ronon walking backward to keep an eye on the villagers, his gun raised and set to stun. As soon as John drops Rodney into the co-pilot's seat, he takes off for the gate and doesn't look back.

~+~+~

At some point in year nine of the expedition, John runs the numbers on how many times his people get into hostage-taking scenarios versus how many times they make allies or have a nice, boring trip. It comes out weighted slightly to the boring side, with a statistically significant number of the hostage-taking situations involving ATA gene carriers. A shiver goes up John's spine when he looks at the final tally. Rodney gets taken the most, a dozen more times than anyone else in Atlantis, and a couple dozen more times than anyone else on the team.

His team has had a hundred and fifty-three successful, boring missions. They've been taken prisoner, run off, or harmed in some way only forty-nine times. He can't believe the ratio. He can't remember most of the boring missions, except the ones where he's had to manage a drunk teammate or those with old friends that are more like parties than negotiations.

The missions gone wrong, though, every single one is as clear as a cut diamond. He knows every scar given to every team member – even the emotional ones. He knows every wrong done to each of them, and he can still count on one hand the people that have hurt Rodney and lived. There is a deep and primal satisfaction in exacting his revenge on someone who's hurt his team, just as there is a quiet peace that comes in his careful inspection of them afterwards, in cataloging the new wounds and dressing them, if he can.

Rodney eventually learned how to handle a gun, but he rarely aims it at a living creature, and even more rarely uses it with intent to kill. It makes John's protective instincts kick in; it makes _all_ their protective instincts kick in. Rodney can and does display courage these days, but it's mostly the sacrificial sort, which means John has to do even more retributional ass-kicking. It's somehow even more gratifying when Rodney's offered himself up first.

~+~+~

It takes seven years and a lucky piece of intel from Todd, but they find Ford again, on a huge planet with two occupied continents and five warring factions. He's a guerilla for hire, and he's apparently weaned himself off the Wraith juice.

Unfortunately Rodney gets himself taken captive again. He's a valuable commodity and he knows it, but after nine years, you'd think he'd learn to keep his mouth shut. When Ford finally shows up to the meet, he tells John he knows the lay of the land and offers to help him find Rodney. John takes him up on his offer – he always gets to Rodney as fast as he can. The longer they go before finding him, the worse the damage tends to be.

They follow his trail to Tharna – the capital of the smallest, meanest country. There are two huge guards outside the building he's in; Ronon takes them out with his stunner. He and Teyla turn a blind eye to John's bloodthirsty ways when Rodney is involved, but they usually prevent any more casualties than absolutely necessary.

Ronon puts a hand on Ford's chest to prevent him from following John inside. John shakes his head at Ford and pushes the door open, stepping into the moldy corridor. The smell is overwhelming, and John knows Rodney'll be sneezing if he's conscious. The building is a straight-forward design and John goes down the corridor, popping doors open with his P90.

Two flights of stairs and three corridors later, he hears a sneeze and a yelp.

"I can't help it," Rodney says. "If you actually cleaned your facilities once in a while, or –"

John kicks the door open and is surprised to see Rodney leaning over some piece of Ancient equipment, not even tied up. The older man with him is looking over his shoulder, annoyance clear in every line of his body.

"John!" Rodney cries, looking distressed.

"Rodney," John says, as calmly as he can muster. If this had been back on Atlantis, the guy with him could have easily been Zelenka, and the situation one of those where Rodney has to share his toys but doesn't want to. "You okay?"

Rodney doesn't move, his hands suddenly still. John raises his gun and asks again. "Rodney? Everything okay?"

Ford comes barreling in behind him right at that moment, and before John can get a shot off, the old guy has Rodney off his chair, Rodney's own knife (a gift from John three birthdays ago) at his throat.

John grins, keeping his gun high. "Rodney?" John asks again. He's not certain yet, this is still a salvageable situation if Rodney says it is.

"Colonel," Rodney answers, voice steady.

"Put down your gun," the old man says, sticking the tip of Rodney's knife in Rodney's throat. A single drop of blood wells up and the situation goes red with it. John sets his gun down on a table to his right and puts a hand on Ford's shoulder to keep him from doing anything stupid.

"There," John says, "gun down. Now let Rodney go and we'll be on our way."

The old man looks confused for a moment, but Rodney shifts to the side and the knife traces a thin, red line across his throat. The slight shift is enough for John; in two steps he's knocked Rodney out of the way and sent the old man's knife flying. The look of surprise on his face when John buries his knife hilt-deep in his chest is priceless.

"Holy crap," Ford says, coming forward to catch the old man. "Mnenallas!"

"You know this guy?" John asks, incredulous. "Why didn't you say so?"

"I didn't think you'd butcher him!"

Ford lays Mnenallas down and examines the knife sticking out of his chest. His breathing is already shallow, one of his lungs collapsed.

"You said these guys were mean!" John yells, pulling a gauze bandage out of his tac vest and tracing it over the welt on Rodney's neck. It's not serious – there probably won't even be a scar.

"He _was_ mean," Rodney says. "He brought me up here with that broken life signs detector at my back, telling me it was a Wraith stunner."

"They _are_ mean – doesn't mean I haven't worked for them. And Mnenallas is just a scientist," Ford says.

"He hurt Rodney," John says, trying to feel bad for Mnenallas and not quite making it. "I've lived through too many threats to my team. You started this, you know, by going off and dying – twice."

"And yet here I am," Ford says, "still alive and somehow less messed up than you." He shakes his head at Rodney. "You can't tell me you don't see this."

Rodney crosses his arms, his mouth mashed into a tight line, and leans down to take the knife out of Mnenallas's chest.

"Let's go," John says, clipping his P90 back on to his vest and steering Rodney toward the door with a hand on his shoulder. He turns around at the threshold and looks at Ford, halfway between him and Mnenallas. "You're still family, Ford. You can come with us."

Ford hesitates, looking down at the slowly spreading pool of blood on the floor. John wonders if he'll accept the offer or if he's even more Pegasus native then most of the Lanteans now. Ford takes a deep breath and looks back up at John before shifting his gaze over to Rodney. "Yeah," he says finally. "Yeah, I'd like that."

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [enviropony](http://enviropony.livejournal.com)'s excellent prompt of _McKay/Sheppard slash, dark or angsty, where they're both cracked, warped or disturbed in some way, where one is messed up and the other covers for him, controls him, and/or helps get whatever fix he needs._ I hope this is at least a little of what you wanted! Thanks to [](http://busaikko.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**busaikko**](http://busaikko.dreamwidth.org/) for cheerleading and handholding and title-giving and a pre-complete beta, to [](http://meghanc.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**meghanc**](http://meghanc.dreamwidth.org/) and [](http://soleta.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**soleta**](http://soleta.dreamwidth.org/) for quick and thorough post-complete betas, and to [alyse](http://alyse.livejournal.com) and [moonlettuce](http://moonlettuce.livejournal.com) for being brilliant mods and indulgent in my time of need.


End file.
